


shaking the sky; following lightning

by asilra



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: + a very vague mention of panic attacks, M/M, Pining, Secret Santa, The Boys make tea, happy holidays everyone!!, there is a blackout, there is a storm, they discuss star wars for 0.2 seconds, this is for a secret santa but it isn't christmas themed or anything oh well, this is saved as "The Tea Fic" in my google docs, yeah that's p much it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 13:25:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13124646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asilra/pseuds/asilra
Summary: The rain starts slowly, as the winds begin to pick up and shake the trees in Evan Hansen’s small backyard, leaves spiraling and billowing past the kitchen window. Evan had just crossed his fingers and prayed they wouldn’t lose power that evening. But, well, sometimes things just don't go according to plan.Or, a oneshot about The Boys™ making tea and enduring a blackout.(Title from Shine by Years & Years)





	shaking the sky; following lightning

**Author's Note:**

> Secret Santa gift for @wreckedrecords on tumblr. Happy holidays!

The rain starts slowly, as the winds begin to pick up and shake the trees in Evan Hansen’s small backyard, leaves spiraling and billowing past the kitchen window. The storm had been forecasted for a while now, continuous warnings of flash flooding and heavy winds due to take over the small town, as well as lightning and thunder. Evan had just crossed his fingers and prayed they wouldn’t lose power that evening.

Connor is over, currently making tea - peppermint for Evan, black for himself - as Evan attempts to locate his television remote and set up the DVD player. Grinning as he feels a lump between the couch cushions, Evan triumphantly pulls the remote out, calling back to the kitchen. “Found it!”

“Nice,” Connor replies, casually leaning against the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil. His foot taps against the tiled floor, partially in impatience, partially in time to the song playing. Some random calming indie tune from one of Evan’s many Spotify playlists. He has one for any and every possible mood, which Connor thinks is neat, to say the least.

It may or may not have influenced him to do the same.

Evan enters the kitchen just as the kettle light turns off, indicating the water is boiled. He holds up a stack of DVDs, and gracelessly drops them onto the kitchen counter as Connor picks up the kettle. Thunder rumbles in the distance.

“What are you in the mood for? We have a bunch of stuff, ranging from the classics to-”

Evan is cut off by the room being plunged into semi-darkness, as the warm glow of the kitchen light gives out. His phone continues to play music softly.

“-some new releases,” he trails off, taking in the gloom.

“Yikes.” Connor sighs as Evan crosses the room, trying the power, flipping the light switch on and off. “There go our movie plans, I guess.”

“Damn,” Evan pouts. “I was really in the mood for some Star Wars.”

Connor chuckles at that. “You’ve definitely been spending too much time with Jared.”

“Shut up.” Evan grins. “It’s a classic, and you know that and love it.”

Connor suppresses a laugh. “Fair. Okay then, you win. I am guilty as proven.” He turns his attention back to the tea, and pours the still-hot water into both mugs before handing one to Evan. He leans back against the counter, gently steeping his tea bag.

“So…” Evan breathes.

“So…” Connor parrots.

The silence between them isn’t tense in any way, and it certainly doesn’t ooze discomfort. It’s nice in a way, and it would almost be calming if not for the heavy and endless pitter-patter of rain outside. Soft indie music continues to play. Connor continues to steep his tea, left hand snugly wrapped around his mug, right hand gently stirring the tea bag around. It leaves behind an ever-blending trail of colour.

“Do you wanna maybe dance?” Evan blurts out, surprising himself. 

Even in the dim light, he can see Connor staring at him blankly, and he turns red. The music plays on. Connor’s hands have stilled, his tea bag now floating rather than bobbing

“Why not?” Connor says. The current song ends and a new one starts. "Just let me finish making my tea."

He gently places his mug on the counter, quickly moving to drain his tea bag and drop it into the compost. Because Evan cares about that stuff and specifically buys biodegradable tea bags. Of course. 

“Really?” Evan asks as he retrieves the milk from the fridge and hands it to Connor, who is currently stirring in sugar.

Connor shrugs and sets his spoon down, opening the milk. “Nothing better to do with no power.” He pours it in, and Evan leans over and watches the milk swirl in until the tea gets lighter and lighter and-

“Connor, that’s way too much.” he chokes out.

The taller boy finally puts the milk carton down. “That’s just your opinion.”

Evan tries to bite down a grin. “At least you don’t put your milk in first anymore.”

“Not when you’re around, I don’t.”

Evan lets out a wheeze, and doubles over in laughter. When he finally recovers, Connor smiles cooly at him, the image of nonchalance.

"That's gonna be lukewarm, you realise?" Evan asks, face red from excessive laughter.

“Which is why we have this lovely invention called the...” Connor begins, making his way to the microwave, and-

Oh yeah. No power. Shit.

“Fuck.”

Evan folds in again, peals of laughter overtaking him. It’s nice, Connor thinks, to see him relax so much. His guard is down for once.

As soon as Evan calms down, Connor pipes up again. “I’ve gotta tell you though, I’m obsessed with all your exper _teas._ ”

It takes Evan a minute, and he snorts and sadly shakes his head. “And you’re telling me I’m the one who’s been spending too much time with Jared?”

“Fair,” Connor smiles, mirroring their earlier conversation. Evan shuffles past him to the cupboard, and grabs a sachet of honey to add to his tea. It’s incredibly domestic, the situation, and Connor takes a moment to think of that before shutting himself down. They’re not dating, and Evan definitely doesn’t think of him as anything more than a friend. Because. Well. Who would? Connor shakes his head, and takes a sip of tea, wincing. It is tragically _not_ warm, to say the least.

Evan blows on his tea, still hot, and sets it down. He raises an eyebrow at Connor and starts moving to the soft music. Connor smiles softly, and feels himself blushing. Damn this boy, bound to be the death of him. He takes a swig of tea and plops his mug down next to Evan’s. The relaxed song ends and is replaced by something with a more steady beat. Connor still has no idea what it is.

The wind gusts loudly outside, and then the two boys are letting loose, with seemingly no cares in the world. They’re both in sweatpants and Connor is wearing obnoxiously patterned rainbow socks, the complete image of uncool to most.

The music is, arguably, not danceable at all, but they don’t let that stop them. Connor attempts to tie his hair up into a messy bun while doing a kick ball change, and ends up with half his hair falling out within the next thirty seconds.

Eventually, Evan bravely tries to knee-slide across the tiles at the same time that Connor attempts a death drop and they both end up staring up at the ceiling, out of breath. Shrouded in darkness, the storm thunders on outside. All of a sudden, Evan sits up.

“I’m gonna go outside.”

And with that, he dashes out of the kitchen and practically bolts into the backyard, indie Spotify playlist long forgotten. Connor can barely see him through the kitchen window, the spray of the rain creating a dense fog. Shaking his head, he picks up both cups of tea and carries them out to the back porch. “Evan!” he yells, his volume barely loud enough over the hammering rain. “Get outta there! Come sit with me!”

Evan looks up, a tragically beautiful, stupidly great looking soaking wet mess. His hair is plastered to his scalp, a couple strands covering his eyes, and he sports a massive grin as he joins Connor on the mostly-dry wooden deck.

“Damn,” Connor says, handing Evan his tea. “That’s the kind of impulsive spontaneity you’d see me pull.”

Evan blushes, and before he can say anything, Connor hums something like “Here,” as he puts down his mug and- oh.

 

_OH._

 

He shrugs off his hoodie - warm and dry, smelling only slightly of stale weed - and drops it onto Evan’s shoulders. Evan turns a deeper red and sets down his own tea before pulling the hoodie on, over his own drenched Arbor Day sweatshirt.

Connor turns his head, trying to conceal his own rosy cheeks because _oh no he’s too cute._ “There you go. Can’t have you getting sick now, can we?”

Evan hums in agreeance, before-

Oh no. Oh _no no nononono._

Connor is going to _die_ right now because Evan is leaning his head against Connor’s shoulder, and one, he is ridiculously touch-starved and a cute boy leaning his head against Connor’s shoulder, and two, said cute boy is Evan Hansen his best friend-slash-crush-slash-all around sweetheart. And Connor’s heart can’t take it, especially not when Evan buries his head deeper into Connor’s shoulder and whispers,

“I feel so lucky to have met you.”

And Connor’s heart can’t take it, it really can’t, and then the floodgates burst and the dam breaks and the rain pours and pours and keeps pouring and he makes a noise in the back of his throat and-

And Connor Murphy is crying, sobbing, on Evan Hansen’s back porch in the middle of a storm. Immediately, Evan turns to face him, taking Connor’s hand between both his own.

“Shit, Connor, are you okay? I’m so sorry, oh my- are you-”

Connor nods his head. Yeah, he’s fine, he’s totally- no, no he’s not, he’s not fine and he never will be and he’s shaking his head now, _no, no I’m not,_ and Evan is talking again and.

And then he feels Evan’s grip on his hand loosen and leave and he’s gone, he’s leaving, Connor has ruined it all, and then Evan’s arms find themselves wrapped around Connor’s torso and Connor has never felt as grateful as he does now. And the two of them just sit like that, out in the cold, until Connor finally finds the strength to somewhat explain why his body decided to burst into tears.

“It’s just,” he gulps, struggling to articulate between sobs. “No one’s ever- I-” He attempts to take a deep breath, and finally, some progress. “For the longest time, I thought that no one would ever even _want_ to be my friend, let alone feel lucky for having me in their life.”

His voice cracks on _lucky_ , and Evan just pulls him closer, tightening their hug, holding Connor as if he was scared that the wind would just take him away.

“ _Shhh_ ,” he consoles. “It’s okay.”

Connor shakes his head. “I don’t know where I’d be without you. If I would even-”

“ _Shhhh._ ”

They just sit like that for a while, Evan holding Connor and Connor letting himself be held, until the taller boy’s tears have been washed away by stray raindrops, and he has enough strength to pull away. Immediately, Evan draws back, still unsure of whether or not the spontaneous hug had crossed any boundaries.

Connor wipes a sleeve across his face, and lets out a sad chuckle. It turns into self-deprecating laughter as he collapses back onto the porch, staring at the support beams above him.

“God,” he mutters. “Look at me, freaking out in your backyard.” He sits up again, abruptly, and turns to face Evan. “Shit. I’m sorry you had to deal with that. I just. I’m a good for nothing piece of shit and- whatever.”

And Evan’s looking at him with the saddest glint in his eyes, and it’s not pity, and it’s not annoyance, it’s more like- heartbreak. It’s heartbreak. And then.

“Yeah, no, totally, don’t worry about it. Like. I can’t even count how many times I’ve had a breakdown in front of Jared, or like, a panic attack, but then it’s worse because I have to go call my mom to pick me up and-”

Something takes over Connor, and he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s feeling stupidly, dumbly, brave (probably), or because of the way Evan looks in the stormy light (fucking obnoxiously gorgeous), or because he just wants Evan to _shut up_ (definitely not that one, though), because then he.

He.

Just.

He goes and.

Well.

Connor leans forwards and his lips land on Evan’s and. Well.

He pulls away immediately, because _what is he thinking_ , kissing his best-slash-pretty much only friend, on said friend’s back porch, after a breakdown? Evan is looking straight at him, wide-eyed, only Connor wouldn’t know that because Connor is frozen and very pointedly looking at the porch, and Not Looking at Evan, who he just. Like. Kissed.

And Connor is still frozen in place when he feels the slightest pressure of something on his cheek, and he looks up to see _Evan, tracing his jaw._ Which. Well.

And then Evan, voice soft as butter, asks _“I_ _s this okay?”_ and his lips are on Connor’s and.

Connor is very sure that he has never been more Okay with anything in his life.

Evan pulls back the slightest bit, his eyes scanning Connor’s, who then re-deepens the kiss, pulling Evan closer towards him. And then Evan’s hands are in Connor’s hair and Connor’s hands are around Evan’s waist and they embrace, tea and storm and stupid adorable themed indie Spotify playlist long forgotten.

“I feel lucky to have met you, too.” Connor breathes, and everything’s okay.

**Author's Note:**

> hope y'all enjoyed it!! feel free to check me out on tumblr @mostamazingtrees


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